


Letters from War

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: #666foryou [210]
Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Mild Language, Pre-Series, Swearing, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7711051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I get enough bad situations over here as it is, and I really just want a little slice of happiness that I can cling to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters from War

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 7 August 2016  
> Word Count: 301  
> Prompt: 19. "I like your new place."  
> Summary: I get enough bad situations over here as it is, and I really just want a little slice of happiness that I can cling to.  
> Spoilers: Pre-series speculation and backstory. Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: #666foryou  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Damien," "The Omen," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Glen Mazzara, David Seltzer, 20th Century Fox Television, Fox 21, and A&E Television Networks. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Damien," "The Omen," A&E, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: So let me start this off by mentioning that my personal headcanon here is that John Lyons was born in 1951, the same year as my own father. This makes John 9 years older than Ann Rutledge. And I've given John a bit of my father's background in that in 1970, when he's 19 years old, he gets drafted for Vietnam. My father ended up being 4-F and unable to serve, but I'm changing that for John. The exact length of his tour of duty is still unclear to me, but my headcanon says that John Lyons is a Vietnam Vet, end of story.
> 
> Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.
> 
> Beta: theonlyspl

Dear Margot,

I hope this letter finds you well. And even if it doesn't, please lie and tell me that you are well. I get enough bad situations over here as it is, and I really just want a little slice of happiness that I can cling to. Maybe you can send me one of those pretty postcards of home that we saw in the pharmacy before I shipped out? You know the ones I mean, right? The ones with the flowers in the park blooming? And that one by the lake that has that perfectly clear blue sky? I really like that one.

Oh hell, Margot, I miss you so much. I hate it here. No sleep, no decent food, and it's humid as hell. I'm not sure which has worse heat rash, my feet or my ass.

I'm sorry. That is not the kind of thing to share in polite company. I've been spending way too much time over here with these foulmouthed GIs. I'm picking up their bad habits. Well, not all of them. They seem to like spending time with the local girls. They make fun of me when I say I don't do that, but they just don't get it that I've got the best girl in the whole world waiting back home for me.

I miss you and I miss our time together. Planning for our wedding when I get home is what's keeping me sane right now. I don't care how plain or fancy you want it to be, Margot, I just want to make you my wife and start our family when I get back.

I gotta go now. It's chow time. Even if I hate the slop they call food, I still need to eat. I'll write you again soon.

Yours,  
John


End file.
